


Like Chocolate Cake and Cigarettes

by Ad_Astra



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-07
Updated: 2012-04-07
Packaged: 2017-11-03 04:34:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/377350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ad_Astra/pseuds/Ad_Astra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tokugawa likes grapes. Irie is being a bastard about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Chocolate Cake and Cigarettes

"Chocolate cake," Irie answers, without missing a beat. "Yeah, I know, it's like the poster food for thisiswhyyou'refat-" He makes a gesture that can be interpreted as either a voluptuous woman or a deformed cereal box, "--but I can never say no to a slice or three." 

"Mine is probably apple-flavored cigarettes," Tanegashima says thoughtfully. "But only when I'm really stressed or when my mom makes me dogsit her demon-spawn chiahuas. I'm not a nicotine junkie or anything." 

"That's bad for your health and tennis," Oni says in tones booming of disapproval, which Tokugawa finds hilarious, seeing as Oni's answer had been "German beer chilled below zero" which is as much a vice as cigarettes are and a lot more prissy. 

"Have you tried e-cigarettes?" Irie asks. "They come in lots of interesting flavors and you can smoke them indoors." 

"E-cigs are for sissies." Tanegashima waves a hand dismissively. "It's like taking decaf when you're craving espresso." 

"At least they're not a health hazard," Oni argues. "Have you seen what a diseased lung looks like?" 

"You make it sound like I'm a vicious, environment-destroying chain smoker," Tanegashima complains. "I'm not. It's situational. I also specifically mentioned apple-flavored, see? I'm classy. I have discriminating taste."

"If your idea of class is apple flavoring in a nicotine killstick, then there is something wrong with your brain."

"Yeah well, there is something wrong with your face."

"There is something wrong with both of you," Irie interjects. "Stop being children, I want to hear Kazuya's answer." 

"I don't know really," Tokugawa admits. "Maybe grapes." He likes grapes. He enjoys the way the juice bursts in his mouth as he bites down; likes the rich, natural sweetness. Grapes have always been featured in history as a fruit of decadence, so it answers the question well enough. 

"Grapes?" Tanegashima frowns. "As in the fruit? Not even wine?"

"Probably the fruit," Irie supplies, with a victorious look that makes Tokugawa feel like an ice cube slid down his spine. "Kazuya seems like a person who'd enjoy _young_ grapes." His glasses gleam as he tilts his head knowingly in Tokugawa's direction. "The type plucked _fresh_ from the vine."

Sometimes, Irie is sort of a bastard. Especially when he knows too much and others know nothing. Tokugawa mentally curses himself for being careless, and wishes he said something less incriminating, like say, cocaine. Still, he will not rise to the bait. He schools his features in an indifferent gaze. "Yes. The fruit."

"Well, they are addictive," Irie says, bright toothy grin still in place. "They're like Pringles- once you pop, you can't stop."

Tokugawa doesn't refute it, but only because it's true; it's really hard to eat just one grape when there's a whole bunch in reaching distance. But he says nothing else either, and instead imagines Irie running into a predicament that involves the extraction of at least five teeth and a decided lack of painkillers. 

Tanegashima looks exasperated. "That's it? You're boring, Kazuya."

"At least grapes won't give him lung cancer," Oni pipes up, back to the subject. 

"Yeah at least it's healthy, ne Kazuya?" Irie refuses to shut up. He leans forward, cupping his face in his palms in a picture that's supposed to pass off as innocent cheer, which is too much wrong for someone whose tennis specialty could be dubbed as psychological voyeurism. "Natural and organic. Makes for guilt-free midnight snacks too." 

Tokugawa mentally counts backwards in French. _Dix, Neuf, Huit..._ He will not brain Irie with his hard-bound discrete math textbook… _Sept, Six, Cinq_ …because Tokugawa Kazuya is cool and composed and beyond petty acts of violence, no matter how deserving the victim. _Quatre, Trois, Deux, Un._

He stands up from the bench and gathers his things. "I have to go," he announces, years of practice allowing him to keep the promise of future retribution out of his voice. "I need to buy groceries for the weekend." 

Tanegashima raises an eyebrow. "You're going grocery shopping?" he asks, incredulous. "You know, most college students would be going out getting high or drunk and avoiding arrest on a Friday night." 

"Oh I wouldn't know about that,” Irie says, absently twirling a lock of hair. "I'm pretty sure Kazuya, in all his infinite prudence and straight-laced ways, has done something to warrant actively avoiding arrest already."

Irie will definitely be going home in the back of an ambulance one of these days. And Tokugawa will succeed in avoiding arrest when that happens.

"Really?" Tanegashima leans forward, looking much too thrilled with the prospect of his friends engaging in illicit activities. "Have you tried weed already? It would suit you, since you seem to like organic stuff--"

"-- which would also disqualify him from tennis tournaments," Oni cuts in, shooting Tanegashima a glowering look that would make lesser men piss themselves but as it is, Tanegashima just looks vaguely put out. Oni veers his gaze to Tokugawa instead. "Have you been drinking without me?"

Tokugawa tries to remember why he's friends with these people. 

"No and no," he answers before Irie can do it for him. He slings his bag over his shoulder and heads for the door. "See you on Monday."

"They have a sale on grape soda in the University shopping center!" Irie merrily calls out after him, ever the last word. 

Tokugawa slams the club room door shut a little harder than necessary. 

\--

Echizen Ryoma is sixteen and beautiful, pumped to his ears in hormones and like most teenagers, completely besotted with sex. His hair is soft and tangled in Tokugawa's fingers, and it's difficult to think of legalities and moral boundaries when Echizen's mouth is hot and wet around Tokugawa's cock, causing a complete and utter fallout of Tokugawa's mental faculties (also, his knees, which is why he's grateful that the newly purchased Lazyboy has got his back tonight). For all its lack of talk, Echizen's tongue makes up for it with other skillsets.

He tries his hardest to be quiet, partly because the acoustics of his apartment are rather shitty, and mostly because he's twenty, and therefore perfectly susceptible to getting accused of statutory rape, should the neighbors somehow overhear him getting deep-throated by a high school junior. 

Echizen swallows and the motion sends another stab of pleasure in Tokugawa’s brain, and this time, he couldn't quite curb the sharp intake of breath when he comes. 

When he recovers a few moments later, Echizen has already stood up, pulling the tab on his soda. "Thanks for the Ponta," he says, taking a long draught. 

"They had a sale at the University shopping center," Tokugawa replies offhandedly, idly watching the motion of Echizen's adam's apple moving with each gulp. "I bought two cases for you." Which, he reasons, has everything to do with the fact that it was a fantastic deal at 30% off, and has nothing to do whatsoever with the observation that Echizen is more sexually compliant with excessively sweet, carbonated beverages polluting his system. 

The fact that Echizen is positively beaming with delight at Tokugawa's unexpected show of generosity is simply a nice bonus. An amazingly gratifying bonus actually, as Echizen drains the rest of his drink, throws the empty can in the nearby wastebasket, and starts unbuttoning his shirt. 

Grape Ponta works very fast. 

"Two cases huh? Is that why you took so long to pick me up?" 

"Not really," Tokugawa answers, leaning back against his chair, in a pose that clearly communicates his empty lap's need for immediate occupation. "My teammates dragged me into one of their inane discussions and I couldn't find a way to leave discreetly."

"That's it?" Echizen pouts petulantly, a damning expression that makes him look even younger and makes Tokugawa feel even dirtier. "I stayed up pretty late to help Kaidoh-senpai discuss new training techniques with Momo-senpai and I still had to wait for you for half an hour."

Tokugawa shifts his gaze to the jut of bone under Echizen's opened collar. "There's a reason why I allowed you to install Fruit Ninja in my iPad," he says by way of apology.

"Che. I already beat my high score twice." Echizen finally shrugs off his polo and proceeds to straddle Tokugawa, deft hands already working on unknotting the older boy's school tie. "What were you guys talking about anyway?" 

Tokugawa says nothing at first, and instead leans forward to lick Echizen's lower lip, tasting the faint traces of Ponta. He feels Echizen involuntarily tugging his tie at the motion, a subtle hint to go further, and Tokugawa complies, kissing him fully, left palm lightly cradling the back of Echizen's head while his right hand steadied Echizen's hip. Echizen tastes like sugar and artificial flavoring, and nothing at all like what actual grapes taste like, but Tokugawa can't get enough of it anyway. When he slowly pulls away, Echizen has that laconic, satisfied smile that reaches his eyes, a look that Tokugawa has long understood to mean _‘yes, again and again’_ and just like that, his hard-on is back full-force. 

Some people have cigarettes and chocolate cake. Tokugawa has Echizen Ryoma.

"Guilty pleasures," Tokugawa finally answers, and unzips Echizen's pants. 

\- fin -

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This fic does not reflect the author's opinion on cigarettes and beer. Bonus points to those who get the title reference.


End file.
